The Gateway
by LizSeven
Summary: Captain Jean-Luc Picard disappears from his time, only to appear in an alternate universe that desperately needs his help.
1. Chapter 1

_Captain's Log, Stardate 48103.3: The Enterprise is taking a detour en route to Starbase 323 to examine a planet in the Arvesa system that was once home to a thriving civilization. For unknown reasons, the civilization simply vanished approximately two hundred years ago, but many fascinating relics of the Arvesan people have been found in the caves on Arvesa IV. As the Enterprise passed through the Arvesa system, scanners picked up what appears to be a distortion in the space-time continuum on the southern continent of Arvesa IV. Commander Data and I are beaming down to the planet to investigate this further. I am wondering if this distortion could hold any clues as to the fate of the Arvesans. At the very least, I hope to find some interesting artifacts._

Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Lieutenant Commander Data beamed down just outside a large cave. Data's tricorder readings indicated that the space-time distortion was inside the cave and Picard silently followed him through the entrance. The rock of the cave walls was brown-red and craggy. A thick reddish dust covered the floor. Both men had to stoop slightly to walk upright down the increasingly narrow tunnel. Suddenly, Data stopped.

"Captain, " he said, glancing from his tricorder to a slight indentation on the left wall of the cave, "I believe the temporal distortion is located here. Readings from the rock are highly unstable."

"Cause?" Picard asked, frowning. Examining the area Data indicated, he could see nothing unusual about the dust-covered rock.

"The gravimetric fluctuations may be indicative of a type of gateway," Data postulated.

"A gateway to what? Another time?" Picard was fascinated.

"Unknown. I suggest we maintain a safe distance from the rock," Data said seriously. "If the fluctuations were to suddenly increase in intensity, the parameters of the size of the gateway would expand exponentially."

Picard walked behind Data and around to the other side of the rock, scrutinizing it for any clue as to its purpose or the role it may have played in the past. "I wonder if the Arvesans traveled through this gateway. If only there were some physical artifact, some cave drawing or forgotten lost item, to provide some clue as to what happened here. Do we know how long this distortion has been in existence?"

Data frowned slightly at his tricorder and at the rock surrounding the gateway rock. "No, there is no way of telling the age of the distortion from examining its current properties. The rest of the cave wall does not appear to contain any evidence that might—Captain!"

Picard had squatted down and begun running his hand through the dirt in front of the rock when a blinding flash of light and a gale-force wind seemed to simply carry him away through the rock. On his worst day, Data's reflexes were 189.58% faster than that of a human being, but they were not fast enough to grab hold of the captain and keep him from passing through the gateway. Data experienced something similar to the human emotion of shock for .00013 seconds, then contacted the Enterprise.

"Data to Enterprise."

"Riker here. What's going on Data?"

"The captain appears to have disappeared into a gateway in the space-time continuum."

Picard's senses returned to him slowly and individually. First he felt the cold floor of the cave, then he coughed as he smelled and breathed in dust particles. Opening his eyes, he saw the brown-red walls of the cave on Arvesa IV and looked into the concerned face of Dr. Beverly Crusher. He blinked several times quickly—his eyes stinging a bit from more of the dust—but even after he was able to focus normally, Crusher did not look right.

Her uniform was red, not blue, and styled differently from standard Starfleet issue, black and gray with red shoulders. The pips on her collar indicated the rank of ensign, rather than commander. The most striking changes, however, were more personal. Her red hair was pulled up off her shoulders and her face seemed somehow different, Picard thought, even younger.

Picard heard a communications bleep and a female voice. "Laforge _to Picard_."

He began to worry that his fall had caused some kind of damage to his ears. Why did Geordi Laforge's voice sound so feminine, he wondered. The next voice he heard confused him even more.

Crusher tapped the comm badge on her uniform and responded. "Picard here. Our guest has arrived."

_"Bring him up to the ship as soon as you're ready, Ensign."_

"Acknowledged. Picard out."

"What the hell do you mean, 'disappeared'?" Will Riker half-shouted over the comm link to Data. He stood up from the captain's seat, controlling his emotions and moving more slowly than he would have had he not been watched by most of the bridge crew.

Data was processing new readings on his tricorder and looking at the ground where Picard had stood. "The space-time distortion fluctuated by 370.27% and I observed a bright light accompanied by an energy force of unmeasured velocity. After the light faded, the captain was gone."

Riker stood between ops and the conn, as if by approaching the main view screen he could see the mystifying situation more clearly. He paused briefly to think and turned to look at Deanna Troi, seated to the left of the chair he had just vacated.

Troi sensed his anxiety and knew that he hoped her empathic abilities would sense some emotion from the captain. She shook her head. "I'm not feeling anything from the captain right now. But that doesn't tell you much," she conceded.

"No it doesn't," Riker answered, glancing again at the planet on the view screen without finding any answers. He turned around. "Worf, you and Geordi go down there and take a look."

Picard's companion helped him to his feet and calmly introduced herself. "Captain, I'm Ensign Jacqueline Picard of the Federation starship Laforge. You must have many questions and we can answer all of them if you will accompany me to the ship."

Picard could only nod. He realized that he must have passed through the gateway somehow, but, for the moment at least, his disorientation at being thrown into another time period was secondary to his shock upon seeing a young woman who looked remarkably like Beverly Crusher and shared his surname. When Ensign Picard spoke, though it was only briefly, Picard had heard Beverly's soft voice and his own measured cadence. His mind uncharacteristically wandered from the seriousness of his current odd predicament to the exciting conclusion that the future would bring him both an intimate relationship with Beverly and a beautiful daughter.

When they materialized on the transporter platform of the Laforge, Captain Picard recognized another familiar face. "Data," he called.

"Hello, Captain," Data said, "I am first officer of the _Laforge._ Permit me to welcome you aboard."

Captain Picard nodded and stepped down. Ensign Picard followed.

"Please come with me to a briefing with the captain. Everything will be explained to you there," Data said. Jean-Luc Picard thought the android's face looked almost reassuring, as though he were trying to lessen his former captain's confusion at being plucked out of his time. All three of them left the transporter room and walked in silence.

The narrow hallways of the _Laforge_ were markedly different from those of the _Enterprise._ The lighting was dimmer and the carpet less plush. The ship's design apparently favored practicality above comfort. Crewmembers whom Picard passed seemed more stressed, less social. There were no children. Most astonishingly, the three walked by two Romulan officers discussing warp drive modifications with a _Laforge _engineer. The turbolift and bridge were similarly spartan. On the bridge, Data led the captain and ensign past science stations to a conference room.

Captain Picard needed only a second to recognize the captain of the _Laforge _as an older version of a young commander who had once served on his ship. "Captain Shelby," he greeted the blonde woman standing at the head of the conference table.

"Hello, Captain," Shelby replied. She gestured toward her senior officers and introduced them one by one. "This is Jude Sorel, ship's counselor; Lieutenant Commander T'pran, chief of engineering; Lieutenant Kyle Hanson, chief of security; Sub-commander Nera, our Romulan liaison. And you've already met Ensign Picard."

Captain Picard turned to find the ensign circling the table to a seat opposite his own. He felt glad that she would be staying for the briefing. He regarded Nera, who looked as though she knew her way around this ship, but was not entirely happy with being posted here. He sat next to Data and looked to Shelby for the explanations he felt he was owed.

Shelby was as direct as she had been when he knew her. "Captain, by coming here, you have traveled not only forward in time, but also across universes. Our time is approximately twenty years later than yours, but this is not the future of your universe. Our universe is parallel to yours." She paused a moment to let Captain Picard contemplate this. "And, Captain, our universe is in grave danger."

"How did I get here?" Captain Picard asked, more concerned for the moment with his own safety than that of the inhabitants of a foreign universe.

"We brought you here," Shelby answered.

"How?" Picard remembered how he had initially been described as a "guest."

"We'll explain later. Right now, we need to bring you up to speed on our situation and . . . ask for your help. Data?" Shelby turned to her left to prompt her first officer to begin the briefing.

Data complied immediately by switching on a tabletop view screen. Captain Picard recognized the stellar map it displayed. "Captain, for the last ten days the Borg have been cutting a swathe through alpha quadrant. They have taken over approximately 85% of the quadrant, generally laying waste to inhabited planets and enslaving populations as they are required." The map showed the route taken by the Borg and the sectors they had conquered. Captain Picard noted the efficient, straightforward path through the quadrant toward sector 001. What he saw reminded him unpleasantly of the Borg strategy to which he had been privy when he was assimilated as Locutus of Borg. They had attacked where they needed to, no more and no less. Their campaign had decimated key space stations and planets. It was entirely in keeping with what he knew of the Borg and he shuddered that his first thoughts were ones of familiarity. He allowed himself time to take in the altered starscape and sadly comprehend the magnitude of the loss of life.

"Two days ago," Shelby interrupted, "the Borg reached sector 001. We've had no contact from Earth since then. The fleet's contingency plan is in effect, calling for most of the remaining Federation ships to fall back to the Petrulian system to entrap the Borg and bombard them with everything they have. Klingon and Romulan ships will provide back-up. According to the most reliable reports we have, there are five Borg ships. We don't think this plan will succeed."

Data picked up Shelby's cue to continue and turned back to Captain Picard. "Captain, we believe our best chance at defeating the Borg will be to sabotage their central computer system. We would like to try to communicate with the Borg surreptitiously through subspace, much as you and I did when you were rescued from the Borg. My programming still contains the access codes and layouts of the Borg neural networks. Given your unique experience as Locutus of Borg, you may be able to help us formulate and deliver a message that will stop the Borg."

Jean-Luc Picard sat quietly with his clenched hands resting on his lap. He looked at each of the officers at the table, intuitively assessing their confidence in this plan and in their ability to execute it. They reminded him in some ways of his own outstanding staff. Yet, something still bothered him about his unwilling participation in this mission.

"As your pan-universal abduction of me has shown, however, I am _not_ unique in having been Locutus of Borg. Have you consulted your own universe's Jean-Luc Picard?" he asked quietly, wondering if perhaps he did not wish to know the answer to his question.

Ensign Picard lowered her eyes to the table as Shelby answered evenly. "We would if we could, Captain. Admiral Picard has not been heard from since the attack on Earth. He was scheduled to leave on a Federation ship, but he never made it. We don't know if he is alive or dead and we don't have the time to mount a search party."

"I see." Captain Picard swallowed a lump in his throat. He looked at Jacqueline with concern, but she was still averting her eyes.

"Data has prepared an extensive file on the Borg's campaign for you, Captain," Shelby explained. "I'd like you to review it fully and get back to me with recommendations in four hours." Captain Picard bristled slightly at her commanding tone and imposing deadline. Shelby noticed. "Captain, I can't thank you enough for your assistance. We can't offer you guest quarters to work in, but-"

"Captain?" Ensign Picard tentatively addressed Shelby.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"The Captain could use my quarters. I'll be on the bridge for the remainder of alpha shift."

"Thank you. I'd like that." Captain Picard promptly responded with a slight smile, pre-empting Shelby's decision and, he hoped, subtly reminding her that, no matter what universe he came from, he was her equal, not an officer under her command.

"Very well," Shelby ruled. "If no one else has anything to add, this meeting is adjourned."


	2. Chapter 2

Jean-Luc Picard walked alongside Ensign Jacqueline Picard, reflecting that even her bearing and pace seemed familiar. On the way to the observation lounge and during the briefing, she had mimicked Beverly's softer posture, but now she moved with his own calm, yet hurried determination. Her legs were long, like Beverly's, and her face had a seriousness that he had often seen in the mirror. For a time, they walked in an awkward silence.

"This must all seem very strange to you," Jacqueline said, "but I hope the circumstances won't distract you from concentrating on the Borg threat."

Although Captain Picard could think of many questions to ask Jacqueline about her family—questions that he knew he should not ask—he felt immeasurably more comfortable discussing Starfleet business. He looked straight ahead as he replied. "I think that once I immerse myself in the Borg file, my attention will be very focused. Although Captain Shelby didn't really discuss why she rejected Starfleet's contingency plan in its entirety, I have to say I agree with her conclusion."

"Well, then," Jacqueline responded, "you must be right." She turned and entered her quarters before Captain Picard could check her face for the subtle grin, her mother's smirk, that he felt was there. Jacqueline walked over to a computer on a glass-topped desk and called up the Borg file. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Yes, tea, please. Earl grey."

This time, he saw a familiar smile. "I suppose some things are constant across the multiverses."

Captain Picard watched her traverse the room and order his tea from the food dispenser. She seemed so relaxed and sure of herself, so wise beyond her years. If meeting her father's younger doppelganger from a different universe was upsetting to her, she certainly did not show it. Still smiling faintly, she placed his teacup on the desk as though it were the most natural thing in the world to be entertaining a man from another universe in her quarters.

"I think you'll find that the computer, the food dispenser and other things work essentially the same as they do on your ship," she said.

He nodded warmly. "I'm sure I'll manage."

She paused before leaving.

"Jacqueline," Captain Picard began, "I'm sorry that your father is missing. Communications from sector 001 will undoubtedly be difficult for some time. There is every reason to believe that he is still alive."

She smiled another of Beverly Crusher's smiles, the sad one that he knew too well. "I know. It's still difficult to accept everything that's happened. I know that my father and mother may just as well be gone, too."

Picard grew concerned at the mention of Beverly. "Your mother?"

Jacqueline nodded. "In the last communication I have from my father, he was exploring the ancient ruins of Volnus V. He said he was going back to Earth to pick up Mamán and they were getting out of there." Captain Picard stared at her and she realized that he needed more information. "My father, the admiral, retired two years ago and he enjoys the occasional archaeological field trip. Thank heaven he was close to home this time. My mother is the head of Starfleet Medical." Jacqueline's eyes wandered as a new fear overcame her. "I hope he didn't have any difficulty persuading her to leave her post."

Yes, Jean-Luc Picard thought, some things must remain constant across universes, including apparently Beverly Crusher's fierce devotion to duty.

"Wow," said Geordi Laforge, drawing the word out for at least eight seconds. He was looking at the rock that contained the gateway through his visor and marveling at what he alone saw—waves of energy swirling patternlessly around a center that expanded and contracted wildly. "Data, this distortion is way too unstable for a humanoid to enter."

"Yes," Data confirmed, "it has grown significantly more unstable in both size and intensity since the captain entered it." He consulted his tricorder. "Gravimetric fluctuations have now increased sevenfold."

"Then we cannot use the gateway to find Captain Picard," Worf concluded.

"That is correct."

Frustrated, Worf began to walk around the cave, hoping to find some other key to unlocking the mystery of the gateway. His search was as fruitless as the captain's had been. Laforge moved closer to the rock surrounding the distortion to try to examine its interior and gradually backed up, taking in its fluctuating edges.

"I'm not finding anything that even remotely looks like a pattern in those fluctuations," Laforge reported.

"Furthermore," Data said, "there are no artifacts of Arvesan civilization anywhere in this cave, which continues for another seventeen point three meters. There are no drawings on any of the walls—"

"But the walls are covered with dust," Worf pointed out.

"I did not rely on a visual examination of the walls," Data responded. "I set my tricorder to scan beneath any material covering on the walls and to record any variation in rock depth. I scanned the entire cave, but found nothing."

"What does this mean?" Laforge asked.

"I believe it is unlikely that the distortion in the space-time continuum had anything to do with the disappearance of the Arvesans."

Laforge was not expecting an anthropological perspective. He was more interested in the nature of the unusual distortion and more concerned with finding Captain Picard. "Data," he ventured, "I think you're right about that, but there's more to this thing. A distortion in the space-time continuum with these properties doesn't look stable enough to have been around that long. I would guess that this gateway appeared fairly recently." He kept peering into it intensely.

Worf abandoned any pretense of searching for physical evidence and looked over Laforge's shoulder. "Does that mean it will also disappear soon?"

"Right." Hands on his hips, Laforge sighed. "I'd say the captain as good as fell through a wormhole. Our chances of retrieving him from there are . . . ," he sought a description that would be accurate yet not demoralizing and, finding none, he sighed again and settled on, " . . . not good."

After two hours of studying Data's file on the Borg, Jean-Luc Picard felt more mentally fatigued than he had at any time since studying for final examinations at Starfleet Academy. Remembering his own unpleasant experience with the Borg was painful. Over the last twenty years, the Borg had assimilated a number of other races that had added improvements to their technology. In all likelihood, he reasoned, the Borg had learned from their earlier defeat in sector 001 and erected a barrier to any transmission of unauthorized commands to the central processing unit. At the time, Picard's idea to have Data send the "sleep" command to the Borg ship was novel and unexpected. By this point in the Borg's evolution, he thought, it would probably be as potent as throwing stones at the cube-shaped monoliths that were the Borg vessels.

How desperate the Federation must be to resort to such a transparent tactic. Indeed, he thought, all of the larger ships in the fleet had already been destroyed. With the Borg at their doorstep, Federation diplomats had negotiated a mutual aid agreement with the Romulans, but Romulan technology would at best only delay five Borg ships. The Klingon ships providing assistance were laughably obsolete.

Yet, somehow Shelby or someone working with her was able to either create or manipulate a gateway through the space-time continuum to bring him here. Could they not employ that same technology to combat the Borg? If he were going to help devise a way to stop the Borg, Picard would need information about every resource available to the _Laforge._ He decided to do some additional research.

Before beginning, he allowed himself a quick glance around Jacqueline Picard's small quarters. She kept a few flowering plants, which brightened up the rooms, and two interesting sculptures that he guessed were Rughalian. Walking around, he spied a volume of Shakespeare on her coffee table and picked up the book. The inscription on the inside cover read, "To Jacqueline on her sixteenth birthday, Love, Papá." Picard held the book delicately and re-read the words for a moment, then steeled his face, willing his thoughts back to the task at hand.

"Computer, display the route the _Laforge _took for the last month." The screen promptly displayed what appeared to be a routine patrol route. After the Borg attack began, the _Laforge _immediately headed toward sector 001, but changed course 24 hours later. "Computer, stop. Why did the _Laforge_ change course on stardate XXXXX.X toward the Angalan system?"

"The course change toward the Angalan system was made in compliance with orders from Admiral Cho of Starfleet Command to await potential further attacks by the Borg and divert Borg ships away from sector 001."

"Hmm," Picard pondered the wisdom of that decision. It certainly made sense to save some starships from a battle that could far surpass the Borg's massacre at Wolf 359, but an attempt to ambush five Borg ships in this way seemed as futile as the contingency plan Starfleet had just implemented. He wondered who was in charge of strategy at Starfleet Command and whimsically thought he was glad that he had retired in this universe.

"Continue," he ordered the computer. The _Laforge_ dutifully patrolled the Angalan system for thirty hours, then abruptly changed course to travel to the Arvesa system at high speed and entered an orbit around Arvesa IV. "Stop. Computer, why did the _Laforge_ leave the Angalan system to come to Arvesa IV?"

"The course to Arvesa IV was plotted and entered on stardate XXXXX.X."

"By whom?"

"Ensign Jacqueline Picard."

"Was this in response to a directive from Starfleet Command?"

"Negative."

"Was Starfleet alerted of this course change?"

"Negative."

This was curious. "So, as far as Starfleet knows, the _Laforge_ should still be in the Angalan system?"

"Affirmative."

"Computer, _why_ did the _Laforge_ come to Arvesa IV?"

"Insufficient information to process that request."

"Had the _Laforge_ ever been to Arvesa IV in the past?"

"Negative."

"Scan the personnel assigned to the _Laforge._ Have any of them ever been to Arvesa IV?"

"Negative."

"From its position in the Angalan system, could the _Laforge_ have perceived the distortion in the space-time continuum present on Arvesa IV?" He knew that the answer in his universe and his time would have been no, but the _Laforge_ could have possessed superior long-range sensors.

"Negative."

"Then how the hell did the _Laforge_ know to come here to find me?"

"Insufficient information to process that request."

Data concluded his report on Captain Picard's disappearance without any recommendations, which was so uncharacteristic of him that it took Will Riker a few moments to realize Data was finished.

"Commander," Worf said, "may I make a supposition?"

"Of course," Riker replied, happy to have any input.

"The gateway is a recent phenomenon. It practically pulled Captain Picard into it. Then it became highly unstable, preventing us from retrieving him. I believe it may be controlled by beings who have abducted the captain." Worf, suspicious of others by nature and by profession, sounded convinced of his theory.

Deanna Troi almost opened her mouth in shock. "But we have no concrete evidence of that at all."

"True, Counselor," Data interjected, "but Worf's analysis is one viable interpretation of the data we have collected. In the absence of any concrete evidence to support any one interpretation, all possible analyses are, unfortunately, equally plausible."

Troi looked at Riker. "Why would anyone from another time want to kidnap Captain Picard? Who could create a rift in the space-time continuum like that?"

Riker was impatient and wanted answers. The best way to reach those answers, he had learned from Captain Picard's own example, was to brainstorm with the senior officers. "Theories?"

"Well, Q certainly has the power to do that," Laforge offered.

"Yes, but in the past," Riker replied, "Q has simply visited the Enterprise and taken the captain off with him. He doesn't need to create a gateway and lure the captain through it." Riker was a bit disappointed that Q could be dismissed as a suspect so summarily—no other being they had ever encountered had mischievousness and power in such ample supply. No other being they knew of could be such a likely suspect.

"What about the aliens that abducted the captain for their research on command relationships? They were able to take him without our realizing it," Troi offered.

"They also did not need to employ a gateway," Data pointed out.

"And the captain scared them enough that I doubt they'd come knocking on his door again, at any point in time," Riker added.

"It could be the Cardassians," Worf said. "They have shown an interest in the captain in the past and Starfleet Intelligence knows very little of their technological capabilities."

"You could say the same thing about the Romulans for that matter," Laforge said.

"True," Riker allowed, "but their technological breakthroughs are much more likely to be in the areas of weaponry or engine design. The kind of scientist that would develop a way to manipulate the space-time continuum would be working for the military in the Romulan or Cardassian empires."

"The Ferengi?" Troi ventured. "A gateway like this could certainly be very profitable."

"But why would they want the captain?" Laforge countered.

No one offered an answer.

"I am afraid our conjectures are limited by our own time bias," Data finally said. "We can only theorize based on the beings and situations we have already encountered. If someone did abduct Captain Picard through the gateway, that person may be from the future. It is possible that we have not yet met that being, or that the abductor is someone known to us who has not yet developed the power to carry out an abduction across the space-time continuum."

Beverly Crusher had remained unusually silent throughout the meeting. Since Jean-Luc Picard had disappeared, she had felt a twisting knot in her stomach and a worry worse than any she had known for over twenty years. She had been surprised and distressed to realize that Jean-Luc meant so much to her. She felt his absence as strongly as she had once felt another man's absence. Every fiber in her body wished for a different outcome this time. After their telepathic experience on Kess-Prytt, Crusher had had an opportunity to show Picard how she felt about him, but she had been afraid to tell him, for many reasons. Since he had disappeared, her fears had seemed incredibly foolish to her.

At the beginning of the meeting, Crusher's pain kept her from contributing to the potluck postulating of the senior staff. Every minute that Picard was gone was torture and talking about him—especially in such a pointless manner—only made her feel sicker.

During the discussion, however, a very eerie calm crept over Crusher. She experienced it as a wave, or series of waves, each one bringing more serenity as it lapped up against her. He is going to be all right, she found herself thinking, and he is going to come back. These phrases repeated like a mantra in her mind as the waves rolled over her. He is going to be all right and he is going to come back. Her scientific mind concluded that she was trying to reassure herself with a normal human coping mechanism, but she knew that this was a different feeling. The waves did not originate in her own worried subconscious—they flowed from some external source. They grew in size and power, finally rushing over her until the solace that they brought was a part of her being. The thought of Jean-Luc being safe and returning to the Enterprise comforted her, but the uncertainty of why she knew that bothered her. She realized that she had not been paying attention to her colleagues' discussion and tuned back in as Data spoke.

" . . . or that the abductor is someone known to us who has not yet developed the power to carry out an abduction across the space-time continuum."

Crusher suppressed a gasp. Suddenly she understood.


	3. Chapter 3

Jean-Luc Picard had given a great deal of consideration to the Borg invasion and the possible responses to it. He had consulted Data, chief engineer T'pran and sub-commander Nera. He familiarized himself with technological advances, Romulan weaponry and numerous new strategies employed, unsuccessfully, against the Borg. He had examined everything he could find about the Borg, including information from the Borg encounters of Captain Shelby and Admiral Picard. Still, a solution eluded him.

He had decided to eat something and retired to a comfortable sofa in Ensign Picard's living area with his light meal. He felt as though he were staring at several puzzle pieces on the verge of seeing how they all fit together. He only had to figure out if pieces needed to be turned or if he were missing any.

As he pondered the puzzle, he found himself literally staring at holograms on a small table. He leaned closer and saw himself holding a small red-haired girl on his lap. The two of them were sitting on a large, pillow-covered bed and Jacqueline looked absolutely delighted as her father acted out the characters from the storybook he held. In the next hologram, he held a toddler Jacqueline in one arm and encircled the thin shoulders of a teenage Wesley Crusher with the other arm. Beaming at her family, Beverly Crusher was embracing Wesley's other side. Next was a wedding portrait showing the two happiest people Picard had ever seen: Beverly, wearing a simple, off-the-shoulder white gown and white flowers in her long, flowing hair; and himself, in an old-fashioned, gray tuxedo, ascot tie and tails. They looked exactly like the two people he knew in his own universe, except for their loving gazes and their comfortable embrace. The last hologram showed Beverly, Jacqueline and him at some sort of fair. A smiling Beverly was dancing with multi-colored streamers flying around her body as Jean-Luc and Jacqueline, laughing in silver and blue face paint and clown hats, followed.

Picard closed his eyes and dropped his tear-stained face to his hands. Though a sensitive man, Picard rarely allowed himself the luxury of crying. But he could not bear seeing this loving-family tableau strangely close to him, yet forever beyond his grasp. This sorrow consumed him more than anything else about his displacement. He had been taken from his universe, Earth had been destroyed, and he was about to plunge recklessly into a perilous conflict with the Borg, but none of these ills compared to the devastation he felt at glimpsing the family and the happiness he had denied himself for so long that it was now doubtlessly unattainable.

He never heard Jacqueline enter her quarters. She quietly sat down next to him and hugged his shaking figure. She let him cry until he was ready to stop.

"You don't have a daughter, do you?" She asked softly, knowing the answer.

"Nor a wife," Picard answered hoarsely without looking up.

Jacqueline gave him more time. Slowly, he sat up straight and composed his face. Her arms retreated from his back and shoulders, but she took his hand in hers. Jean-Luc Picard looked with trepidation into her beautiful eyes, seeing both the woman he loved and the best aspects of himself reflected there.

"Maybe it's not too late," Jacqueline said.

Troi would make an awful spy, Crusher thought, as the Counselor turned awkwardly from the bridge to follow her into the turbolift. Would her attempt to probe be so obvious to everyone, Crusher wondered. The conference had ended with the crew adopting a wait-and-see approach for the time being. Data and Laforge would continue to study the gateway and Worf and Troi were to begin researching any entities that might have the ability and/or the motivation to kidnap Captain Picard through the space-time continuum.

"Deck eight."

"Beverly, you were very quiet in there," Troi began.

"I guess I'm just too upset right now." Crusher hoped that Troi's knowledge of her unspoken feelings toward Picard, as well as Troi's knowledge that she wished to keep those feelings unspoken, would explain the odd sensations Troi might have felt emanating from the Chief Medical Officer during the conference.

"I know that, but I thought I sensed something else from you during the discussion—"

"Deanna, I just can't talk about this right now." Crusher held up a hand to stop any further inquiry, opting for the brusque, evasive approach to handling difficult emotions that had worked so successfully for her in the past. Troi opened her mouth to speak, but the turbolift doors opened and Crusher darted out.

"It's not like him to be late," Captain Shelby said, pacing by her chair in the observation lounge. "Sorel, can you read him?"

Her Betazoid Counselor closed his eyes, set his hands gently down on the table, and sat very still, searching his target's mind. "He is experiencing a great emotional turmoil."

"Is he having difficulty adapting to our universe?" Shelby asked impatiently.

"No," Sorel answered. "He is remarkably well adjusted to our universe and he is well-apprised of our current status viz a viz the Borg."

Sorel's careful exposition of his subjects irritated Shelby. As was his habit, he kept his eyes closed and spoke very slowly. Shelby knew that he did not do this to anger her, but if he had, he could not have chosen a more effective way to rattle a woman who liked to make eye contact, to bore into a person and to interrupt with her own opinions. Shelby rarely did anything as slowly as Sorel communicated the results of his telepathic probings. She sat down to try to calm herself.

"But he is not thinking clearly," Sorel continued. "He is filled with regrets and pain about past decisions."

"About not destroying the Borg when he had the chance?" Shelby interrupted.

"No, these are personal decisions, private pains. He is a very sad person . . . ."

Shelby gripped the arms of her chair, breathed deeply and looked out the window to try to relax. The lives of billions of people were in danger. She was one of the few starship captains in a position to rescue them. She had crossed the space-time continuum to find one of the greatest men in any universe to help her, and he was preoccupied mourning some path not taken.

"Damn it, Sorel, tell him to snap out of it."

Jude Sorel had no qualms about using his telepathic abilities to spy on people if ordered to do so by his commanding officer. He always reserved the right, however, to withhold sensitive personal information that was irrelevant to the task at hand. He always had to screen and edit anyway, since most humanoids' thoughts were far too complex to convey concisely. In this case, he knew the subject of Captain Picard's grief and that Ensign Picard's words were providing a measure of comfort to him. None of this, he felt, however, was any of Shelby's business.

"Someone else has just done that," Sorel said. "It appears to be working . . . gradually. I recommend we give him another thirty minutes then get everyone together."

Shelby felt like pounding her head into the table. Instead, she began one of the breathing exercises Sorel had recommended to her for situations that required her to wait.

"Commander," Laforge called from science station one, "you better take a lot at this."

Riker crossed the bridge and looked over Data and Laforge's shoulders at the screen.

Laforge provided some background information. "Starships have been visiting Arvesa IV for fifty years and archaeologists have dug up a large part of the northern continent, where Arvesan civilization was concentrated." He referred to the planetary map on the viewscreen. "Some Arvesan artifacts were even found on these peninsulas of the southern continent. But no one had ever explored the area where we found the gateway, here."

"The last archaeological expedition to Arvesa IV on Stardate XXXXX.X made a complete sensor sweep of the planet and reported nothing unusual," Data added.

"Could they have overlooked it?" Riker asked.

"That is highly unlikely," Data answered. "The report of the expedition was very thorough in all other respects and the team was equipped with the most advanced portable sensor devices."

Laforge tapped some buttons and the close-up of the planet was replaced by a view of the Arvesa system, a red sun and six orbiting planets. "That's not all. About two weeks ago, a Federation survey ship passed near the system and did a scan. As they passed by Arvesa IV, the southern continent was fully in view and completely scanned by the ship's sensors. Guess what they reported?"

"No distortion in the space-time continuum," Riker said.

"Bingo."

Riker shifted on his feet, started to pace behind the station, then stopped. "So this distortion had absolutely nothing to do with the existence or the disappearance of the Arvesans and it didn't even exist itself until some time within the last two weeks."

"That is correct." Data answered.

"Still, the timing could be coincidence. Other ships could have passed by the system in that time. Plus, we don't really know much about how often these distortions form and then dissipate."

"That's true, we don't," Laforge said, turning his attention to the first officer. "But we know they're not all that common. And, where they exist, distortions vary in shape and size and are usually at least ten meters in diameter. The gateway we found on Arvesa IV is different. It was small, just large enough for a person to fit through, and symmetrical, which is practically impossible for a naturally occurring phenomenon." Laforge leaned against the science station and folded his arms to let the implications of these facts sink in.

"Then the distortion in the space-time continuum was created by someone," Riker said.

"And if it was created by someone," Laforge said, "it can be modified by someone."

Data had been considering how they could modify the gateway and he was ready to contribute. "Commander, we may be able to reduce the gateway's fluctuations by isolating the gravimetric energy with an inverse tachyon pulse. We could modify the warp deflector to emit such a pulse. Once we stabilize the distortion, an away team could enter the gateway to retrieve the captain."

Finally, Riker thought, a solution. "Make it so."

"I have to ask you a question." Jean-Luc Picard looked closely at Ensign Jacqueline Picard. Jacqueline understood his seriousness and sat back down on the couch next to him. "How did you bring me here?" He saw her start to gesticulate, read in her eyes that she was going to try to evade his question and he interrupted. "I need to know because I think that whatever enabled you to manipulate the space-time continuum may help us fight the Borg."

Jacqueline let her defenses down and relaxed in the cushions, sighing. "No, it won't help us. We don't have some powerful, mysterious technology that allows us to alter the fabric of the universe. If we did, I suppose we could sew the Borg up in a deep pocket somewhere . . . ."

Captain Picard thought he would have to repeat his question but when Jacqueline's gaze finished wandering out the portal, it returned to his face and answered him. "Wesley did it."

"Wesley Crusher?" Captain Picard asked, astonished.

"Yes," Jacqueline answered. "He has . . . powers, abilities that no other human has. I don't remember when he first started communicating with me telepathically, but it was years ago. I was a child and he was an adult. After he left the _Enterprise,_ the only contact we had with him was when he would reach out to my mind." She paused, seeming to remember that intimacy fondly.

Captain Picard was very intrigued. "Does Wesley communicate with his mother telepathically?" The Beverly Crusher in his universe would certainly be cheered up if she knew that a method of communication with her distant son lay in her future.

"No, not exactly" Jacqueline replied. "Somehow he always knows where Mamán is and where you and I are. If anything happened to one of us, he would know. But the three of us are not telepaths. Maybe I can receive Wesley's thoughts because I'm his half-sister. I don't know. I can't really send my thoughts to him—not like he does to me—but sometimes I can . . . call out to him when I want to hear from him."

"Extraordinary," Picard marveled.

"Wesley told me to come to Arvesa IV with the _Laforge_. He told me where to find the distortion in the space-time continuum and he told me whom I would find there. Wesley said that we would need your help in defeating the Borg. When our mission is complete, we are to return you to the cave on Arvesa IV so that you can return to your time and place."

Captain Picard sat back in thought. After a few minutes, he nodded briefly to himself before turning to his companion. "Jacqueline, we are going to need you to call Wesley."

At the pre-arranged time, the senior staff gathered in the observation lounge for a follow-up briefing. Data and Laforge explained how they planned to manipulate the gateway to allow an away team to enter it to search for Captain Picard.

"Sounds like a good plan," Riker summed up. "I'd like to implement it, unless anyone has any objections."

Beverly Crusher had not looked up from the table since the description of the rescue plan began. Suddenly, she looked up at Riker and nervously spoke. "Commander, can I speak with you in private for a moment?"

Riker was as surprised as the rest of the senior officers. He could not ever remember anyone making such a request in the middle of a staff meeting, not of him nor of Captain Picard. By tacit agreement, and motivated by the need to share valuable information with the whole team, each officer felt free to say anything in front of all the others. Yet, although he did not understand why, Riker agreed because it was Beverly making the request now. He nodded and led her into the captain's ready room.

Not wanting to occupy the captain's empty chair, Riker stopped and stood a few feet from the desk. Crusher needed to sit down and, sensing his reluctance to sit behind the desk, she turned and made herself comfortable on the couch.

She breathed in and straightened her shoulders before speaking. "Will, I know that Captain Picard is all right and that he's going to come back to us."

Riker felt sorry for Crusher. He knew that she was close to the captain—though he did not know or particularly care to know how close—and he assumed that this ordeal was difficult for her. He had a great deal of respect for Beverly as a fellow officer and a great deal of compassion for her as a friend. His face softened and he sat down on the other side of the couch. "I'm sure he'll be all right," he said in a comforting tone.

"No, you don't understand," Crusher struggled to make herself understood. She spoke slowly and emphasized each word by staring deeply into Riker's eyes. "I _know_ that he's all right because I was _told_ that he is."

It was Riker's turn to stare at Crusher. "Told? By whom?"

Crusher took another deep breath and spoke even more carefully. "I think that I was told this by Wesley." Riker raised his eyebrows but did not say anything. Crusher decided to tell him everything she felt. "I can't explain how I know this, but I don't think we should go after the captain. I think that he'll simply come back once he's done."

"Done with what?" Riker's face and tone were riddled with skepticism.

Crusher shook her head futilely. "I don't know. Done with whatever it is he's doing . . . wherever he is. I think he was summoned there to do something." Riker stared at her silently until she felt compelled to say more. "I wish I could explain how I know this, but I can't. Earlier today, at the staff meeting, I just suddenly . . . felt this. It was like someone was whispering in my mind that Jean-Luc was all right and he would come back to us as soon as he was finished with what he had to do." She swallowed. "At first, I didn't know where this message came from, but I realized it must be from Wesley. It _feels_ like it's from Wesley."

Riker's face had lost the bewildered expression it had worn when she began speaking, but was now gravely somber. He took her hands in his. "I'd like you to speak to Deanna," he said softly.

Crusher felt her temper flaring up, but she did not want to compromise her credibility with an outburst that could be regarded as further evidence of her descent into madness. "Will, I will talk to Deanna if you order me to," she said, struggling to keep her voice even, "but please trust me. If I weren't so sure of what I was told and so confident that Jean-Luc was safe, I would never prevent you from taking actions that would rescue him."

Riker knew that was true. He considered her logic and attempted to weigh the risks of her proposal. Without knowing what lay on the other side of the gateway, any action or inaction on their part could be hazardous to the captain or to them. "I'll have Data and Geordi prepare to manipulate the gateway, but we won't implement the plan yet. You talk to Deanna and try to figure out what happened to you earlier. We'll meet again in two hours and re-evaluate our situation."

Crusher felt that he was patronizing her somewhat, but she knew this was the best response she could expect. "Thank you," she said as she headed out of the room that reminded her so much of Jean-Luc.


	4. Chapter 4

The senior staff of the _Laforge_ gathered in the observation lounge. Captain Shelby was about to speak, if only to fill the anticipatory silence with some sort of command presence, when Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Ensign Jacqueline Picard entered the room and swiftly took their seats at the table.

"Captain Shelby," Captain Picard diplomatically addressed the ship's territorial captain, "I believe I know how to stop the Borg."

If she needed to grant him permission to speak, Shelby was more than willing to do so. "Go ahead, Captain."

"Even before you brought me here," Captain Picard began, "Commander Data could navigate the pathways to access the Borg central computer. I of course had experience communicating with the Borg through a neural link. After reviewing the extensive information collected by all of you—and I must commend your staff, Captain Shelby—the two obstacles to a successful sabotage of the Borg computer were the distance between the Borg ships in the armada and . . . well, the simple fact that the Borg in all likelihood would be prepared for such a tactic after Data and I executed it in sector 001 some twenty years ago.

"Both of these problems could be solved, however, if the Borg did not receive the sabotage command as an external message from a remote location, but as an internal message originating in one of their own ships. If our message came from the Borg central computer, then, aboard the _Laforge, _I would essentially act as an amplifier, to strengthen the signal to ships farthest from the origin of the original transmission."

"Intriguing. How do you propose we mask the origin of our transmission, Captain?" Data asked.

"We won't really have to, Data. Our role will be to create the proper conditions then listen for the message that we want to be transmitted from the Borg central computer. I will be connected to the lead ship to receive the message, disconnected before the Borg realize we've been eavesdropping, and re-connected to the more distant ships." Captain Picard paused. "At the same time that I am sending a message from the _Laforge_ as Locutus of Borg, the exact message will be sent out—"

"—by Admiral Picard," Ensign Picard finished. "The Admiral is aboard a Borg ship. He's been kidnapped and assimilated again." Jacqueline Picard could not explain how she suddenly realized this, but she was sure that her reaching this conclusion had more to do with following the analytical mind of Captain Picard than any telepathic link with Wesley Crusher.

"Yes, I believe he has been," Captain Picard nodded, allowing a small, proud smile at Jacqueline.

"Wait," Shelby interjected. "How do you know this? What proof do you have?" The other officers around the table looked as skeptical as their captain, as if they found the time traveler in their midst crazy.

Captain Picard re-iterated everything that Jacqueline had told him about Wesley's abilities. "The rest of the mystery is simply logical deduction. Admiral Picard's whereabouts are unknown, but Wesley has not told Jacqueline that he is dead. We have the means to communicate a destructive message, but not the means to deliver it throughout the Borg armada nor the technology, alone, to dupe the Borg. So we must ask ourselves, why would Wesley choose _me, _bring me _here_ to act _now?"_

The logic of the theory appealed to the Vulcan T'Pran. "Fascinating," she said, "and quite logical."

Sub-commander Nera, however, had had enough of human arrogance. "It is one logical conclusion," she fumed, "but Captain Picard's theory is entirely unsupported by any evidence and relies upon a number of assumptions that we cannot test." Shelby glanced at Nera then turned to Captain Picard with an ambivalent look to indicate that Nera had just spoken her sentiments.

Captain Picard patiently responded. "There's more. The rest of the puzzle pieces fit so nicely. The first officer of the _Laforge_ is Data, the only being in the universe who already has the knowledge to send these transmissions. Counselor Sorel's telepathic skills will allow him to assist Data in monitoring my condition during the link to the Borg. Captain Shelby is here, bringing her knowledge of the Borg, her stellar reputation as a Starfleet captain and her personal contacts in Starfleet—all of which, I assure you, we are going to need. Ensign Picard will provide the link to Wesley Crusher, whose hand in all this is not yet played out. Perhaps most oddly of all, only you, Sub-commander, of all the Romulan liaisons to the Federation, have the authority to summon a significant number of cloaked warbirds, which we will need to divert the Borg."

This revelation silenced Nera. Captain Picard obviously had researched Nera's career and position in the Romulan Empire most thoroughly. Nera did not broadcast her ties to the Tal Shiar intelligence organization and she was annoyed that this human—in her mind, more of a phantom—from another universe had virtually exposed her.

Shelby could not stand it any longer. She could not remain silent in her observation lounge on her ship while another officer controlled the direction of the mission. "Captain, what the _hell _are you talking about?"

Jean-Luc Picard smiled at her, remembering the directness and impatience of the young Shelby who had once served aboard his _Enterprise._

"The Borg have not yet encountered the Romulans. If several warbirds suddenly de-cloaked near the armada, the Borg likely would pursue them in an attempt to assimilate a new race, quite different from the peoples of the Federation worlds recently conquered. In fact, Locutus will even recommend this course of action so that the Borg can assimilate the cloaking technology. We can predict how the Borg would act once they are within range of a Romulan vessel because we've seen how they approach a new race before."

"They'll send over a minimal away team to assess the ship's technology," Shelby answered.

"Yes," Picard said, "and that will provide us with the window we need to retrieve the Admiral. The Romulans will have to lead the Borg to sector 294." He pushed buttons on the table and the viewscreen behind Shelby showed a rather unremarkable star system, at the center of which was a dying star. Captain Picard then magnified the view and modified the display to include astrophysical data on the star.

T'pran understood the readings instantly. "The mass and the area of the star suggest that the star may be compressible enough to eventually become a black hole."

Data concurred. "In addition, the gravitational readings of the core are consistent with the precursor readings of a star that collapses into a black hole."

"Thank you, Mr. Data," Captain Picard said. "I also believe it is the beginning of a black hole, which should be perfectly formed in roughly the next two to four thousand centuries. Locutus will recognize this sector when the Romulan ships lead the armada there and he will know that it poses no immediate threat to the Borg ships."

Shelby could not be left out. "The Romulan ships will stop in sector 294 and let the Borg send over an away team. At the same time, we send a team to the Borg ship to find Admiral Picard and bring him back. Respectfully, Captain, the Romulans have never boarded a Borg vessel."

"I know," Picard said, "and they're not going to board one this time either. According to our most recent information, the _Titan_ is located nearby in sector 288."

"And the _Titan's_ captain is Will Riker. He knows a thing or two about the Borg," Shelby said with admiration for Captain Picard's plan. "Riker wouldn't hesitate to help us. He could hide in the Orion nebula and come out to send a rescue team for the Admiral." Her mind racing, Shelby stopped speaking so that she could follow the plan to its end. She frowned when she reached a snag. "Captain, if we issue only one command, to get the Borg to follow the Romulans to sector 294, I don't understand how we are going to neutralize the Borg."

Jean-Luc Picard looked across the table to Jacqueline Picard. Looking into her father's eyes, she understood and answered, "The Borg are going to fall into the black hole. Wesley is going to alter the space-time continuum so that the black hole will be there at the right moment." Brilliant, she thought. She was witnessing the most brilliant meeting of minds—Wesley's evolutionary one and her father's younger, strategic one—and she knew she would become stronger from this experience. Maybe every officer involved in this wild rescue would, she thought. Maybe that was the thrill that star travel offered, the challenge that had kept her parents living aboard starships for so many years.

Although Nera was impressed by the unorthodox strategy, her mind zeroed in on her own parsec of concern. "What about the Romulan ships? Wouldn't they too fall into the black hole? What about your own ship, the _Titan?"_

Picard nodded gravely. "That is a concern, but one we can address. We will need to adroitly position the ships so that they will remain beyond the distortion in the space-time continuum. If they slipped into the distortion, then they would likely be pulled by the gravitational field of the black hole." His face was somber. He did not like the odds as he understood them.

"Captain," T'pran said, "based on the average gravitational force of a black hole and the current gravitational force and density of the star, we may be able to calculate safe distances from the black hole. We would need to know the size of the black hole, however, to estimate the force of its gravitational field."

"We could work backwards," Data suggested. "We could attempt to configure safe locations for the Romulan and Federation ships and the exact force of the gravitational field that would make those positions safe, then calculate the size of the black hole that would produce that degree of force."

"Then we tell Wesley what we need," Jacqueline Picard confidently continued, "and he selects the right moment in time." Jean-Luc Picard gazed at his daughter with unconcealed pride.

"That is correct." Silence met Data's pronouncement as each officer considered his or her role in the plan and tried to comprehend the scope of what they would soon be attempting. \

Shelby was exhilarated. Giving her staff a few moments to object and hearing no objections, she put the plan into action.

"Make it so," Shelby said.

Beverly Picard rolled over and curled up in a fetal position but still felt cold and extremely uncomfortable on the hard plank that was supposed to be her bed. It made no sense to her why Klingons, humanoids like the rest of them, had to sacrifice such minor and basic necessities as bedding to maintain what she considered an anachronistic warrior image. But then, she reflected, given recent events, maybe that image was no longer outmoded.

Her physical discomfort was a welcome distraction from her much greater emotional pain. If she could keep feeling the hard wood or, even better, complain to someone about the conditions of her room, she would not have to think about her husband. Beverly had always preferred nurturing an unrelated anger to help her hide from inner pain. Maybe, she thought, it will work again.

She knew it would not. The loss of her husband in the Borg attack on Earth was far too painful to bear. She wished she could lose her mind or shut down—anything to stop thinking about the reality that she would never see Jean-Luc again.

Beverly tried to distract herself with the joy of memories. Trying to teach him to dance and finally giving up on experimentation or progress when it became clear that all he wanted to do was hold her close. Accompanying him on archaeological digs and enjoying his childlike exploration and wonderment more than anything she had ever managed to dig up. Listening to him read to her, in his soothing, deep voice that almost carried her away, as they lay together before the fireplace in their house on Caldos. Spying on him as he gently tended the vines in Labarre. Feeling his soft, strong hands touching her face, stroking her hair, caressing her body.

No, it would not do to think of that. She remembered his poetic words and the love in his hazel eyes as he timidly proposed to her. The relief they both felt when he was freed from the Borg and he looked at her with his own mind, his eyes reflecting the terror of the violation and his joy at returning to her. The mind-sharing on Kess-Prytt that she thought might lead to a divorce, with the confusing bombardment of contradictory thoughts and memories from their subconscious minds.

Sitting on the cold, hard rock of a bed in the Klingon ship, Beverly allowed herself to conjure up her husband's face the first time he held their newborn daughter in his arms. Lying next to him in the bed, Beverly had looked up to see him more amazed, frightened and awed than she ever had. Despite all his adventures as a starship captain, all the astral wonders he had seen in space and all the races of people he had met, Jean-Luc Picard felt the most moved by the sight of his newborn child. In the seconds that he had held his daughter for the first time and his wife gazed at him with more love than he had imagined the universe could hold, Jean-Luc had silently begun to cry.

Oh my God, Beverly thought.

Jacqueline.

She did not know if Jacqueline were alive or dead. Worse, she had barely devoted a thought to either of her children since losing her husband. She was almost certain that Wesley was out of danger, wherever he was. She had assumed that the _Laforge _was far away from the Borg's advance, but she did not know for sure, in a universe where nothing was sure any more. Arms wrapped around her knees, Beverly buried her face and cried again.

Ensign Jacqueline Picard reflected that, in a way, this was the easiest assignment she had ever gotten in Starfleet. All she had to do was go to sleep. She was tired after a day that had begun at 0400 hours and included attending to her duties at the helm of the _Laforge_, following her brother's telepathic directions to bring the ship to its fateful position, meeting a younger version of her father, comforting the heartbroken man who was not her father, and participating in the formulation of a strategy to defeat the most dangerous enemy her universe had ever known. Plus, Jacqueline had to do all this while trying to impress Captain Shelby. Now, she had to keep working in her sleep.

Jacqueline looked at the holograms of her family one last time, trying to see them through Captain Picard's eyes, to understand the depth of his despair. Her family was everything to her and she could not imagine life without them. Although she had been very sad when Wesley left the _Enterprise,_ she did not have to wait too long before he contacted her. "Don't be sad, Squirt," Wesley had reassured her, using the affectionate nickname he had given her. "I'll always be close to you. Just think about me and I'll be there."

Likewise, she could not bear to think of her parents being gone. In the meeting, when she realized that her father must be aboard a Borg ship, her first thought was a selfish happiness that he was alive, but she knew the experience would be horrible for him. She still remembered the nightmares he used to have and how he would wake screaming until Mamán could finally calm him down.

She summoned all of her discipline and pushed painful thoughts away with a Betazoid meditation that she had learned from Deanna Troi. Climbing into bed, she drank some warm milk and nutmeg, then laid her head on her pillow. Sleep came quickly.

Wesley approached her as he always did in a misty forest that reminded her of the woods near LaBarre, or the dense outlying forests of Caldos. He was a young man, not much older than when she last saw him, wearing similar clothing. He smiled warmly at her. He was her big brother. "I'm here," she heard, or felt him send. Despite the care he had taken to show a physical image to her, his lips never moved when he communicated with her telepathically.

Although the setting was comfortable and familiar, Jacqueline was nervous. She hurriedly told him about all of Captain Picard's conjectures, the plans the _Laforge _had made for the Roluman warbirds and the _Titan_, and the exact measurements of the black hole they would need to defeat the Borg. He listened patiently, still smiling a bit.

"All right, I have it," Wesley sent when she was finished. "I understand and I'll make it happen. You've done a great job, Jacqueline. You're going to save the rest of the Federation, you know."

Jacqueline was still anxious. "Papá?" she asked timidly. "He is aboard the Borg ship?"

"Yes. The Captain and you were right. Will Riker will rescue him."

"Is he . . . all right?"

Wesley paused, then answered straightforwardly. "He's alive, but he won't be all right for some time."

Jacqueline thought she breathed a sigh of relief. One last thing troubled her, though, and she was afraid to ask. Fortunately, she did not have to. Wesley read her mind, moved closer to her and took her hands.

"Mom is alive. She's on a crippled Klingon ship that doesn't have any communications right now. She was evacuating Starfleet Medical and waiting for Papá to come back. His ship was delayed for reasons beyond his control and the Borg advanced faster than anyone expected."

Jacqueline was glad for the comfort of Wesley's hands holding hers. On their own, she was sure, they would be shaking like a flimsy Kondrovian tree in a windstorm.

"One of Papá's former officers, Worf, went to Earth in his ship to rescue Mom and Papá. He found Mom evacuating Starfleet Medical and told her they had to leave right away."

"But," Jacqueline could not comprehend, "Mamán left Earth without waiting for Papá?"

Wesley shook his head. "She refused to leave without him. Worf was arguing with her and the evacuating crowd was panicking. In the confusion, Worf grabbed Mom and beamed her aboard his ship. When Papá arrived two hours later, she was gone and the Borg were there."

"Then Mamán doesn't know that Papá is alive? She must be devastated."

Wesley nodded. "At first, she was." He smiled again. "I let her know that Papá and you were safe."

Jacqueline was immeasurably glad of that, but also curious. "Did you talk to her, like you do to me?"

"Not exactly," Wesley sent. "I just sent her . . . a feeling. To take away her pain."

Her message conveyed and her worst fears allayed, Jacqueline now focused on the process rather than the content of her most important telepathic meeting with Wesley. Suddenly, she gasped with wonder as she realized that something had changed significantly. "Wesley, I'm _talking_ to you, I'm communicating with you. I've never been able to tell you things like this before or ask you questions."

"I know."

"What's happening? Am I going to become like you?"

Wesley smiled the warm, brotherly grin she remembered from her childhood. "Well, Squirt, I like to think that I'm special in my own way, but, yes, you are . . . evolving. You're pretty special, too."


	5. Chapter 5

Deanna Troi truly thought Beverly Crusher was hallucinating. Apart from her implant-induced mind-sharing on Kess-Prytt, Crusher had never had any telepathic experiences. Nor, to the best of Troi's knowledge, had Wesley, no matter how intelligent he was. Even if Wesley had somehow managed to summon the Traveler from a distant galaxy when he needed help manipulating his warp bubble experiment, Troi assumed that the engine behind that trip had been the Traveler's alien telepathic power. Troi also discounted Crusher's story of how, trapped in the warp bubble, she had asked Wesley for help out loud, then decided to head for engineering, the exact section of the ship where Wesley was creating the vortex. Crusher's fortuitous action had been the product of her own careful reasoning, she concluded, rather than a telepathic direction from her son.

On the other hand, over the twenty-some years that she had known Jean-Luc Picard, Crusher had had many _emotional_ experiences involving him. Although Troi did not entirely understand the complex nature of their relationship, she knew that the two had become closer during their years on the _Enterprise._ Crusher had been deeply disturbed when the captain was held by the Borg and when he was captured by the Cardassians. It was Troi's professional assessment that the captain's disappearance through the gateway caused a similar effect on Crusher, perhaps intensified because of the intimate feelings they had shared on Kess-Prytt. As a result, Troi believed, Crusher had had a "telepathic hallucination."

Troi began to doubt her initial feeling, however, when Crusher volunteered to subject herself to a neural scan and a battery of psychological tests. This behavior was even more out of the ordinary for her than receiving telepathic communications from some unknown part of the universe, Troi thought.

Dr. Selar met up with Troi in Crusher's office. "The neural scan indicates that brain functioning is intact," Selar reported. "There is no neurological damage that suggests hallucinations or reality-severed thought. Tissue scans yielded the same results."

"There is no organic cause for such an experience?" Troi asked.

"No, however, we did find something of note," Selar responded. She moved to the screen on the wall and activated it to point to a scan of Crusher's brain. "Her cerebral cortex shows a significantly increased level of beta-seratonin. The level is far higher than those normally found in a human." She called up two other schematics on the screen for comparison. "Most curiously, however, Dr. Crusher's neural scan showed trace amounts of psilosynine, the neurotransmitter involved in telepathy. Although psilosynine is commonly found in the brains of telepathic races, such as Vulcans and Betazoids, it does not occur naturally in the human brain. Both the increase in beta-seratonin and the presence of psilosynine are unexplained."

"Are you saying that Beverly may have had some kind of telepathic experience that caused her brain to produce the neurotransmitters involved in telepathic communications?"

"That is the logical conclusion, yes," Dr. Selar answered.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard lay on an operating table in a laboratory adjacent to the _Laforge's_ sickbay. Dr. Sirius Medallon, the Chief Medical Officer, had worked with Data to simulate Borg implants and Picard now had a neuroprocessor connected to his brain and a coaxial cable extending from his neck to a computer monitor, over which Data now pored.

Although Picard felt no physical pain, he was nervous about his impending re-connection to the Borg. Data and he had gone over every aspect of the connection they would be making. He would be plugged into the Borg collective for only seconds, just long enough to contact Admiral Picard/Locutus and amplify the command to pursue the Romulan ships. Data would monitor communications and ensure that he would receive no transmissions from the central computer.

Still, he could never forget the terror of his assimilation by the Borg. The lack of control over his actions and even thoughts. The voices of the Borg pounding into his mind, as they assaulted him physically. Violently ripping away his identity, his self. Watching helplessly as they stole his knowledge and forced him to kill.

In the midst of his fears, he spared a thought for the Picard of this universe. The Admiral, an older man, re-claimed by the Borg, must be suffering undescribably. No, it would not do to dwell on that.

"Data," Picard said, in an effort to distract himself, "can you tell me about Jacqueline?"

Data continued working while he answered the question. "Jacqueline Picard is an excellent pilot, with a natural feel for the movement of a starship. She is very intelligent and has demonstrated considerable leadership potential. She has the ability to remain calm in a crisis and to think clearly through a complex problem. At the Academy, Jacqueline graduated in the top five—"

"Data," Picard interrupted, "that sounds like a crew evaluation. I'm happy to hear that Jacqueline is an outstanding officer, but I was hoping to hear more about her as a person."

"Ah," Data replied, acknowledging his understanding. "Her personality, for example? Although Jacqueline is quite serious while on duty, she possesses a sense of humor that her colleagues have affectionately described as 'wicked.' She enjoys her off-duty time immensely. She dances and acts in ship theatrical productions. She takes an interest in history and literature. She is teaching me horseback riding. I am giving her painting lessons. Jacqueline is very popular on the ship. She has many friends, with whom she often socializes, and she apparently is very attractive to the opposite sex."

"Oh?" Picard asked, with a note of parental concern.

"Male officers frequently ask her out," Data replied, matter of factly, "but Jacqueline is . . . selective."

"It sounds like you know her fairly well, Data."

"I believe that I do. I have known Jacqueline since she was born aboard the _Enterprise_ and I have watched her grow up. When she graduated from the Academy, several starships extended offers to her. I was instrumental in persuading her to come aboard the _Laforge._"

"Really?"

"Yes. Jacqueline and I find it easy to talk to one another because we are old friends. When she asked for my advice on a posting, I supplied her with information on all of the ships that had requested her." Data related the story without any emotion or humor. "Then, I told her that she should choose the _Laforge."_

Picard laughed, then expressed a more somber thought. "Data, is Jacqueline happy?"

For the first time since they began their conversation, Data stopped working and turned to address the captain.

"In all the time that I have known her," Data answered, "Jacqueline has been a happy person. But I believe she is, to employ an aphorism, 'growing into her own' aboard the _Laforge."_

In Captain Picard's ready room, Commander Will Riker leaned back in the captain's chair, took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. He raised his eyebrows, set his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands together. Even if the officer sitting across the desk from him were not an empath, she would have sensed his skepticism and his frustration.

"Did the psych tests support Dr. Selar's finding?" he finally asked.

"As much as they could," Troi answered. "I found out that she is not lying: Beverly believes that she received some kind of telepathic communication from Wesley and she believes that the captain is safe. I found no signs of any psychological disorder, no signs of any hallucination or cognitive break with reality. Will, I don't know how it is possible, but, based on every test we've run, everything I know about Beverly and . . . " Troi struggled for the right expression, ". . . based on my gut instinct, I think that it is possible that Beverly did hear from Wesley."

Riker sadly shook his head. "I'd like to believe Beverly, but—"

"There's more." Troi knew she had to convince him. "Do you remember when Beverly was trapped inside Wesley's warp bubble? Well, when she realized where she was, she had to figure out how to get out. She had no idea what to do and she stood on the bridge of her _Enterprise_ and called out to Wesley, asking him for help."

Riker looked interested.

"All of a sudden, she heard his voice telling her to go to Engineering. She did and there she discovered the vortex that took her out of the warp bubble and returned her to our reality."

Riker looked away, formulating his objection.

"I didn't just take Beverly's account at face value. I checked Wesley's report of the incident. His experience was very . . . unusual. In the midst of trying to recreate the warp bubble with the Traveler, he actually phased. He saw, heard and felt many sensations that no other human has ever recorded. And he reported hearing his mother ask him for help and responding to her."

He stared at her, speechless.

"There's other evidence as well. The gateway is almost certainly an artificial structure, apparently created to coincide with the _Enterprise's_ passage by the Arvesa system. We've already considered the possibility that someone purposely lured the captain into the gateway. Perhaps he _was_ brought through the gateway to accomplish something, to do some good. We don't know who could have summoned the captain. It is possible that it was Wesley."

"It is equally possible that it was someone else. The universe is too full of possibilities to attribute to Wesley something like this, something he's never done before."

"Will," Troi rebutted, "Wesley is not the teenager you took under your wing on the _Enterprise_ seven years ago_._ He's a man. He's a man with special abilities. We saw the beginning of his potential when he was with us. It is very reasonable to assume that in the future he will be capable of even more."

Riker pondered this for a moment and looked as though he was going to argue with her again.

"Don't you think it's odd that the distortion in the space-time continuum appeared on a planet famous for its archaeological treasures?" Troi asked him. "If the gateway was created to lure Captain Picard, it was created by someone who knows him very well."

Troi paused for a moment to let Riker consider that.

"What a convenient coincidence that the same person who knows that the captain loves archaeology and may in the future have the ability to manipulate the space-time continuum also has a mother on board the ship through whom he may be able to telepathically send messages to us."

Riker tapped his comm badge. "Senior officers report to the bridge."

"I am ready, Captain."

Data calmly looked up from the console he had set up to connect Captain Picard to the Borg collective. It was a complicated, customized board, but Data had no doubt that it would achieve their purpose, based on the work he had done before and on enhancements that he had extrapolated considering the technology that the Borg had subsequently assimilated.

Jude Sorel entered the lab, but stood in the shadows, away from Data and Picard. He sensed both the captain's preparedness and his apprehension. Based on what he knew of the man, these emotions did not surprise him. Sorel had come to respect Captain Picard greatly. Immediately upon arriving in a foreign universe, the captain had brilliantly devised a plan to defeat the Borg and courageously risked his mind to execute it. Knowing that Picard had accomplished this while reeling from a painful sense of loss created by seeing Jacqueline, Sorel appreciated him all the more.

Dr. Medallon, the Antican Chief Medical Officer, scanned Picard with a tricorder to ensure that the temporary implants were not damaging his tissue and that he was physically ready for the procedure. When finished, he looked up and nodded at Data.

"Doctor," Data said, "I do not anticipate any problems, but I believe it would be prudent for you to monitor Captain Picard's physiological responses while he is neurologically connected to the Borg."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Mr. Data," Medallon replied. A competent physician of average ability, Medallon had never encountered the Borg or attempted anything remotely like this. In the past few hours, however, he had risen to the occasion, burying himself in Beverly Picard's report of her removal of her husband's Borg modifications after Wolf 359. Fortunately, he found she had documented far more than the minimum information needed to effect the surgical removal of implants. She had included details about their functioning and design. What Medallon had not been able to figure out from her reports, he had asked Data. Consequently, Dr. Medallon felt ready to assume the weight of the universe that he saw as settling on all of their shoulders.

"Counselor?" Data asked. "Are you ready to monitor the captain's mental condition?"

"Yes, Mr. Data," Sorel answered, "I am ready. Captain," Sorel turned to Picard, "I've wanted to ask you something since the last meeting. How did you know I was telepathic?"

Picard smirked briefly. "I gained some mind control abilities as a result of a mind meld with Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan. I sensed you probing my mind."

Sorel felt somewhat embarrassed. Although he was reasonably sure that the captain would not have an opportunity to report his unauthorized use of telepathy, he was not accustomed to his transgressions being discovered.

"Captain, about that . . . I would like to apologize," Sorel said. "I, uh, . . . ."

"Your apology is accepted, Counselor," Picard said.

Sorel's admiration of Captain Picard grew.


	6. Chapter 6

"Commander, I strongly disagree with that course of action," Worf protested. He wanted to vehemently register his objections, but avoid offending Dr. Crusher if he could, both out of sensitivity for her and out of a desire to not trigger her temper. The senior officers had gathered at the engineering station on the bridge where Laforge and Data were ready to emit and monitor the inverse tachyon pulse to manipulate the gateway. "We do not have much evidence of this . . . theory. If we delay, we may be endangering the captain's life."

"Unfortunately," Riker responded, "we don't have any evidence that the captain's life is in danger or that we won't be placing him in danger by trying to go after him."

Data opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the turbolift doors opening. Everyone at the engineering station looked to see who entered and all were surprised when Guinan calmly approached them.

"Guinan?" Riker asked.

The bartender smiled and nodded. "I know I don't usually invite myself to your meetings. I'm also not in the habit of visiting the bridge." She looked around to take in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Every officer stared at her, anxious to hear the reasons for her intrusion. They knew that Guinan's race possessed powers of perception not fully understood by most humanoids. She had shared her feelings in the past with the crew and had been correct about the Borg threat, Q and, most inexplicably, Commander Sela, a half-Romulan daughter of Tasha Yar.

Riker asked the question on everyone's mind. "Guinan, do you know anything about where Captain Picard is?"

"Yes and no," Guinan's calm face provided no answers or comfort. "I don't know where he is but I know that he has to be there. He is there to save an enormous number of lives and to save this galaxy from unimaginable horror. He was brought there for this purpose and we should not intervene."

"How will he get back?" Worf asked.

"The same way he left," Guinan answered.

Riker was exasperated. "So, what should we do? Trust your intuition and Beverly's sixth sense? Post a couple of guards around the gateway to watch for the captain's return?"

"What would Picard do?" Guinan asked.

Closing his eyes, Jean-Luc Picard no longer saw the sickbay laboratory of the _Laforge._ He did not see Dr. Medallon or Counselor Sorel. He did not hear Data narrate the process for the benefit of the doctor and the counselor. He felt himself floating, through the beautiful black void of space, through the quiet. He felt himself move farther and farther away. He left the calm peace of the infinite to enter the ugly, metallic, gray noise of the Borg ship.

Picard connected. He could hear the hive voices, distant yet clear. He suppressed his fear as he eavesdropped. The one voice he sought was silent. Other drones talked about Locutus, but the admiral apparently was unconscious.

"Is he injured?" Picard wondered to himself.

"There is a problem," Data said matter of factly to Medallon and Sorel. "Locutus is unresponsive."

Medallon quickly ran his tricorder over Picard and determined that the captain was all right. Sorel silently performed the same type of monitoring in Picard's mind. He marveled at Picard's control of his terrors. Hopefully, Sorel thought, Picard had gained from Sarek sufficient mental strength to hold off the Borg.

"Data," Medallon said, recalling one of the monographs he had studied, "can you route Captain Picard's thoughts through the admiral's assigned neuro-subroutine? The captain's thoughts should have the same neural imprints as the admiral's. We may be able to fool the Borg."

"That is the course I am attempting to follow," Data replied without distraction from the rapid re-configuration his fingers performed on the computer console. "There is a 16.34% chance that the Borg will detect the subspace link to the captain. Counselor Sorel, I assume that Captain Picard is aware of the problem."

"Yes," Sorel said. "He thinks the admiral is injured."

"Please communicate to him that we must initiate the command to pursue the Romulan ships. In essence, he will have to enter the mind of Locutus and issue the command from there."

"Captain Picard," Sorel thought, "you will have to become Locutus. Data can get you into his mind via the neural network implanted by the Borg."

"No," Picard protested, "that's too close. I don't want to be that close to them. I want to get out of here."

"You can't, Captain, not yet. Please, remain calm. Just a little longer. I can't go there with you; the Borg would detect me. Remember, we will be here when you are done. We'll pull you back out."

Data interrupted the telepathic dialogue. "Counselor, I believe I have linked Captain Picard to Locutus. He must look for the Romulan ships and issue the command once he sees them."

"Go ahead, Captain," Sorel urged. "I'm here with you. But you have to take the final steps alone. We will be here to pull you back out. Go into Locutus's mind. Do it." He sensed Picard's ambivalence and fear and he prayed that Picard would not panic.

Picard forced his consciousness across the wire and computer chip barrier that separated him from Locutus. He immediately heard the thousands of voices, loudly pushing into his mind, into the space that his identity had occupied. Millions of bytes of information, instructions, and quotidian noises bombarded him. Suddenly, he saw the horrific results of the Borg advance through the quadrant, from the Borg point of view. Vulcan had been assimilated, its renowned science institute converted to use by the Borg, its beautiful temples destroyed, its two billion peaceful, logical inhabitants enslaved. The planets of the Rigel system met a different fate: the Borg deemed the commerce centers, vacation resorts and cultural icons irrelevant and simply obliterated all populations and structures. Earth . . . the devastation, the humans assimilated . . . .

Picard felt sweat pouring down his face. He felt his heart racing. He knew he had to act quickly before the horrors he was witnessing overcame him. Before the voices of the collective claimed him. Before the Borg discovered the subspace link between Locutus and him.

Sifting through the various readings and minutiae, he located and processed the information that had been collected on the alien ships.

He issued the command. "I am Locutus of Borg. Those alien vessels ahead of us at 337 mark 219 are Romulan warbirds that contain advanced propulsion technology and cloaking devices. The cloaking devices allow the ships to conceal their presence. We must assimilate them now and outfit each of our ships with a cloaking device. Get to the engineering sections of the ships and get those cloaking devices."

The drones moved to obey his command, assembling into away teams. Before they could beam over, the warbirds warped away, toward sector 294.

"Follow them."


	7. Chapter 7

Aboard the _Titan_, Captain Will Riker had ordered an all stop inside the Orion nebula, where the Borg could not detect their presence. The _Titan's_ forward sensor array had been modified to locate the Borg ships through the nebula. Captain Shelby had provided a meticulous timetable that her crew, including one Captain Jean-Luc Picard, would be following.

Shelby did not have time to explain how she had commandeered a Starfleet officer from a parallel universe, but Riker surmised that Jacqueline Picard may have accomplished it. He had known Jacqueline since she was born and he had always known that she was special. For one thing, she was very intelligent, like her brother Wesley just not as technically oriented. In fact, her strengths seemed to lie more in the diplomatic or strategic areas, like her father. And once—when he was returning to the _Titan_ from Admiral Nechayev's retirement party on Earth—Jacqueline had piloted his shuttlecraft. Although he had always been an exceptionally skilled pilot himself, he was astounded at the young woman's ability to steer the craft as though its duranium bulk were an extension of her own body. She compensated for disturbances before he felt them and flew the ship through or around astral phenomena with uncanny instincts. If he had not known her human parents, he would have sworn she was an Alsacian, the famed navigator race. But then, Riker reflected, Wesley was somehow more than human, too.

Some time in the future, Riker hoped, he would sit down with the Picards and learn the whole story. For now, however, he had all the information he needed and his bridge crew was alert and ready to execute the _Titan's_ part of the plan. On his right, Commander Deanna Troi, his wife and ship's counselor, sat calmly listening for any empathic harbinger of the anticipated guests. Just as Deanna turned to him to tell him that she sensed a presence, Lt. Commander Zephor, at ops, reported the appearance of both the Romulan warbirds and the pursuing Borg ships. When Zephor notified him that the Borg had beamed into the warbirds, and Troi confirmed the admiral's presence on the lead Borg ship, Riker inched the _Titan_ to the edge of the nebula and sent his away team to retrieve his mentor.

The away team found the admiral strapped down to a workbench-table, with two technicians hovering nearby. Moving quickly, two medical officers severed the cord linking the admiral to a console on the worktable and ripped the straps restraining his limbs. Three security guards fired Romulan disruptors at the advancing Borg drones. Before the Borg could reach them, the medical officers lifted the admiral off the table and beamed back to the _Titan_. The security guards followed a half-second later.

"Riker to task force: we have the admiral!"

"This is Commander Zhule of the _Shiraxa_. The Borg ships are in position."

"Acknowledged, Commander," Shelby said over the comm link. She turned to her ops officer, a tall Andorian. "Lt. Kouru, can you confirm the Borg ships' position?"

"Yes, captain," he replied, studying his console. "All of the ships are within the designated range of coordinates."

Shelby turned to Ensign Picard. "Ensign?"

In her chair at the conn, Jacqueline Picard momentarily closed her eyes. She kept her fingertips on the helm, trusting her body to sense the need for any course corrections and to make them without her conscious knowledge, without realizing that she was doing so. She then focused her thoughts on one message, which she repeated over and over. "Now, Wesley, now."

Lt. Kouru related the events as his scanners picked them up. "Captain, sensors are picking up a rift, location XXX mark XXX—just where we expected it, sir. The first Borg ship is being pulled into the rift . . . the second . . . the third . . . and the fourth. Wait. The fifth Borg ship was not aligned with the others. It has turned and is heading XXX mark XXX." Shelby rose from the command center and stood between ops and the conn.

"It has discovered us," Ensign Picard said, examining her console, "and is approaching our coordinates at warp nine."

"Task force, execute contingency plan Shelby Alpha."

With the captain's order, Ensign Picard entered new coordinates. "Course laid in, sir."

"Engage."

The _Laforge _sped off in the new direction. Everyone on the bridge remained silent for a split second.

"Captain, the Borg ship is pursuing at warp nine point three," Kouru reported.

"Keep us just ahead of them, Ensign."

"The warbirds are just behind the Borg ship," Kouru said.

"Excellent," Shelby said, for the first time allowing a smile to celebrate the success of the task force.

A few tense minutes passed. To the bridge crew, time moved unbearably slowly. Commander Data and Captain Picard entered the bridge and stood on either side of Captain Shelby. Shelby congratulated them and apprised them of the current status.

"Captain," Ensign Picard interrupted, "we have reached the Chekov Asteroid Belt."

"Good, Ensign," Shelby responded. "Slow to half impulse and bring the ship carefully into the outer ring of the belt."

"Aye, sir."

"Captain, the Borg ship is still following us and the warbirds are right behind it," Kouru said.

"The Chekov Asteroid Belt?" Captain Picard asked.

"A collection of asteroids containing an unusually large concentration of radioactive materials. According to my calculations, the radiation should diminish the effectiveness of the Borg shields by twenty-two point seven eight percent," Data responded. "The Romulan ships will remain out of the radiation danger zone and the _Laforge_ will carefully avoid the most radioactive asteroids."

"That should be just enough," Shelby added. She turned to face Sub-commander Nera sitting in her chair at the command center.

"Engineering, this is Sub-commander Nera," Nera said. "Engage the cloaking device."

Although the officers on the bridge of the _Laforge_ could not perceive the change, the ship suddenly vanished from sight. The Romulan warbirds chasing the Borg ship dropped out of warp and cloaked.

"Ensign, bring us around as close to the heading zero-one-eight-mark-two-four as you can," Shelby ordered.

Ensign Picard deftly maneuvered the ship between asteroids in that direction. Shelby had spent considerable time studying both Borg tactics and Admiral Picard's record as a starship captain and felt confident that the Borg would not anticipate the evasive steps she had chosen. Ensign Picard and she had also studied a map of the asteroid belt as she formulated an alternative plan for destroying any Borg ships that did not make it into the rift. Shelby was confident that Picard was the best pilot in Starfleet and she knew that Picard had other, more unusual abilities. She gave the young woman a task she would not entrust to anyone else—to steer the _Laforge_ into the deadly asteroid belt but keep it safely away from the most intensely radioactive asteroids.

The computer announced, "Outer hull radiation level increased by seven percent." Shelby had anticipated some exposure to the radiation. It would not be a problem as long as Ensign Picard could keep them moving and they could destroy the Borg ship soon.

"Captain," Kouru said, "the Borg ship is firing. A clear miss."

"They don't know where we are," Shelby concluded. "Or the other ships. Now is the time. Lt. Kouru, what is the status of the Borg shields?"

Kouru tapped the console and read the scan. "Borg shields strength has dropped twenty-two percent."

"That should do it." Shelby knew very well the strength of her enemy's shields and the power that her task force could bring to bear on them. She returned to her chair and opened a comm link to the Romulan ships. "Shelby to task force: fire."

A brilliant light filled the viewscreen. When it faded, the Borg ship was gone. The _Laforge _and the warbirds de-cloaked.

"Well done," Shelby said over the comm link. "Congratulations, commanders. I will personally see to it that all of you receive recognition from the Federation for your vital role in defeating the Borg. Ensign, take us out of the belt."

"Captain," Lt. Kouru interrupted, "we are being hailed by the _Titan."_

"On screen."

The asteroid belt and warbirds disappeared and a broadly smiling Captain Will Riker appeared. Next to him, Deanna Troi sat.

"Captain Shelby, may I extend my congratulations to you and your crew on a job well done," Riker said.

"Thank you, Captain," Shelby smiled back graciously, "and also to you and your crew for your valuable assistance."

Captain Picard felt a surge of pride at seeing his former first officer looking comfortable in command of his own ship. Riker's boyish face was creased and his hair was beginning to gray, but the twinkling blue eyes and the confident bearing remained the same.

Looking at Jean-Luc Picard, Shelby thought of Jacqueline and asked the question she knew the young ensign wanted to ask. "Captain, how is the admiral?"

Riker's smile faded. "Admiral Picard was not well when we recovered him. He's being treated in sickbay now, but he'll soon be reunited with his favorite physician." He looked directly at Jacqueline and beamed. "We received a distress signal from a Klingon ship in sector 004. Beverly Picard is on board and in excellent health, although Worf tells me she's complaining about the accommodations. We should reach them in six hours."

Jacqueline's shoulders softened and she felt every muscle in her body relax. "Thank you, Captain," she said to the man who had been like an uncle to her.

Riker turned his attention to the familiar officer standing behind Jacqueline. "Captain Picard, it's good, though a little strange, seeing you again."

"Likewise, Number One," Captain Picard replied. "I must say, you look very good in the captain's chair."

Riker smiled. "It's been a long time since anyone called me that, sir. If I do look good here, it's because I had the best mentor in any universe. Have a safe trip home, sir."

Grinning back with pride at his former first officer, Captain Picard nodded.

"Very good, Captain," Shelby said to Riker. "We'll rendezvous with the Starfleet task force after we return Captain Picard. Perhaps we will have another opportunity to serve with you."

"I look forward to it, Captain," Riker said. The view of the stars returned.

"Ensign," Data said to Jacqueline, "enter a new course heading XXX mark XXX."

"Course laid in," Jacqueline said.

"Engage," Shelby ordered.


	8. Chapter 8

While the _Laforge _traveled back to the Arvesan system, Captain Jean-Luc Picard slept peacefully in the quarters of Ensign Jacqueline Picard. Dr. Medallon had swiftly removed his Borg implants and healed his skin. Although all physical traces of his re-connection to the collective had been removed and Sorel's calming presence had assured him that he had never been completely assimilated, his mind had been reeling from the experience at first. He had been face to face—or, more accurately and more intimately, mind to mind—with the monsters who had raped him five years ago.

Yet, watching the Borg ships disappear into the black hole from the bridge of the _Laforge,_ he had begun to feel surrounded by friends and oddly safe, perhaps more than he would have on the bridge of his own ship. At the time, he had guessed that this sense of security was the result of Sorel's telepathy, Data's skilled manipulation of the Borg neural network and Shelby and Nera's confident command of the situation. Reflecting further as he settled down for his nap, he also attributed his growing sense of security to Jacqueline. In a way that he did not understand, he felt that he drew strength from her presence. Lying down in her bed, his last waking thoughts were of what a remarkable young woman she was.

When they arrived at Arvesa IV, he beamed down to the planet with Jacqueline, walking in silence into the cave. Filled with a longing that she had created in him, Jean-Luc wanted very much to enjoy the last moments of his time with her, to experience the parental feelings he felt toward her as fully as he could.

"What are you plans for the future, Jacqueline?"

She smiled. "Well, if I prove up to the task, I'd like to rise to the position of captain in Starfleet. I spent so many wonderful years on the _Enterprise,_ with my father as the captain . . . I think I'd like to try the job myself."

He looked at her fondly.

"Then, I'd like to retire and do humanitarian work. I may even consider getting a medical degree, but you may _not_ tell my mother that."

"Your secret is safe with me," he promised.

They reached the gateway.

She held out her hand, which contained a small black box. "I wanted to give this to you, but I'll understand if you don't want to take it. It contains holograms. You activate it by pushing on the bottom."

She demonstrated. The first hologram was the one of her parents on their wedding day that he had seen in her quarters; the second showed her parents holding her as a very small infant; the third was a recent holo of her in her Starfleet uniform.

Jean-Luc felt a lump in his throat and feared that he would be unable to answer her. He painfully swallowed it and whispered, "I would like very much to keep this."

When she handed it to him, he took her in his arms. Jacqueline was surprised by the tears falling freely down her face. She hugged him back as tightly as she could, as though she were holding her own father.

"Thank you," she said, hoping he understood that she meant to thank him not only for his role in defeating the Borg, but also for everything that she had learned and the bravery that she had felt as a result of working with him. The time she had spent with him made her feel closer to her father.

Jean-Luc was grateful that Jacqueline could not see the pained expression on his face. How he wished he could take her back with him; no, not her . . . he wished for his own daughter, his own Jacqueline.

"Thank you, Jacqueline," he managed, "for everything."

He released her and walked a step toward the gateway. Before he reached it, he turned back to her and said, "You will make an outstanding captain."

"Goodbye, Papá," she whispered.

"D'Amato to _Enterprise._ Lt. Matsushima reports that the gateway is becoming stable. Energy readings from within it are increasing."

Riker had waited too long to hear the away team's report. "Data, Worf, I want you to beam down with Dr. Crusher," he said, staring wistfully at the viewscreen. "Hopefully, the captain's on his way."

Admiral Jean-Luc Picard opened his eyes and realized, happily, that he was lying on a sickbay biobed aboard a Federation ship. He was not troubled by the fact that he did not know how he had gotten there. He knew that he needed medical attention and was satisfied that he was now receiving it. So many curious things had happened to him in his lifetime that he had learned not to fret such minor details as passing out on a planet and regaining consciousness, after what seemed like a painful week's time, on a starship.

Nevertheless, Picard was confused by the familiar face that smiled down at him.

"Beverly?" He asked breathlessly, praying that he was not hallucinating.

"Yes, Jean-Luc, I'm here. You're going to be all right." Her voice, softer than usual, and her hands, gently holding his right hand, eased him awake.

"How did you—what happened?"

Beverly could only stroke his temple and gaze into the beautiful eyes that she knew so well, eyes that she had thought she would never see again. He drew strength from her presence and, if she had bothered to look at the readings above the bed, she would have seen the improvement in his condition. "I was safe the whole time," she finally said, "Worf came for us and he rescued me."

Her words reminded him of the Borg. Still looking at Beverly and drawing from her calm, he remembered returning to Earth to get her. He had beamed down to Starfleet Medical only to find a deserted building. In agony, he had run through the Starfleet compound searching for her and he was standing outside the main building when the Borg beamed down.

"They were there," he tried to tell Beverly. "They took me again." He grew alarmed until he felt Beverly's smooth hand caress his cheek then settle on his chest.

"It's all right, Jean-Luc. You're safe now." Silent tears glimmered in her eyes as she imagined the pain that he must have relived.

"I don't remember," Jean-Luc said, shaking his head on the pillow. "I was on the ship again and I was . . . altered. I don't remember anything after that."

For a few moments, Beverly merely sat with him. Gazing into the eyes of the man she loved and had almost lost, she decided not to tell him yet. Much later, after he had recuperated more, after she had organized and led the massive effort that would be needed to remove Borg implants from the assimilated populations, there would be time to explain that he had suffered a stroke. She would tell him about Jacqueline and Wesley's roles in stopping the Borg and about the Romulan commanders and the trio of Federation captains—including a younger version of himself—who had saved his life.

Content with just the sight and touch of his wife, Jean-Luc realized that she was not going to say more, but that did not worry him. He took her hand in his and spoke solemnly. "Beverly, from now on, we're not going to be separated. We will stay with each other no matter what. I don't ever want to risk losing you like that again."

Beverly was surprised to find herself laughing at her husband. "Jean-Luc, don't you remember the last time we tried that? How bored you were making my dinner and waiting for me to come home every night?"

"Bored, yes," a tired Jean-Luc answered, "that's exactly what I want."

Lt. Commander Data led Worf and Dr. Crusher through the cave to the gateway.

"When the captain appears," Dr. Crusher told her companions, "he may feel a bit disoriented. Don't be alarmed. We'll just handle him carefully and get him back to the ship for a full medical exam."

Data's tricorder recorded the fluctuations in the gateway just as the wind and the light appeared. The three officers shaded their eyes. When the light faded, they looked up to see Jean-Luc Picard lying in the dust in front of the rock that had been transmitting the light.

Picard felt the cold floor of the cave, coughed on dust particles and opened his eyes. He saw the brown-red walls of the cave on Arvesa IV and found himself, again, staring into the face of Beverly Crusher. Her uniform was blue, her rank was commander, her long auburn hair fell around her shoulders and she was scanning him with her tricorder. Everything looked right, he told himself, but he still had to hear her say it.

"Beverly?" he asked, coughing again. "Is that you?"

Crusher glanced quickly up at Data and Worf, as if to indicate that this was a sign of the disorientation she expected. She bent over the captain, gently touching the side of his face, and spoke in the calming voice she used with her patients. "Yes, Jean-Luc, it's me. You returned through the gateway. You're home."

She did not expect the response that she received. Instead of demanding a status report or asking what had happened, the captain smiled distractedly, actually chuckled a bit, then just stared at her. Crusher recorded this behavior as possibly indicative of a more serious neural injury.

She laid a hand on his chest. "Jean-Luc, we need to bring you back to the _Enterprise._ I want to run some tests on you in sickbay. Can you stand?"

"Yes, of course." He smiled at her and allowed Worf and her to help him up. "Of course," he repeated, with another laugh.

The four officers walked, stooped over, out of the cave without speaking then straightened up in the chilly Arvesan night. Worf instinctively looked around to ensure that they were as alone as they had been when they beamed down. Data consulted his tricorder one final time. Dr. Crusher worried about the captain's odd behavior and began to wonder if he could have sustained some type of permanent brain damage.

She felt the captain grab her arm.

"Beverly," he said, still smiling, "would you have dinner with me tonight?"

If he had not just endured a traumatic experience, Crusher would have thought he was flirting with her. His giddiness and his physical proximity to her threatened to undermine her medical and psychological concern for him. She had been so worried about him—despite Wesley's assurances—and she was so relieved to have him back, that she felt like hugging him close to her and kissing him. Of course, she would never act so unprofessionally in front of the other officers. Furthermore, she told herself, she would not do anything of the sort before he received a clean bill of health from Counselor Troi and from her. After dinner, however, she thought . . . .

"Jean-Luc, let's just get you to sickbay and see how you're doing. Then, we'll take things step by step."

"Exactly what I had in mind," Jean-Luc Picard answered, smiling to himself and clutching the base of the hologram in his hand.

"Crusher to _Enterprise._ Four to beam up," Crusher said. She turned to look at her best friend, suddenly aware that he was completely lucid and speaking very suggestively. Looking into his warm hazel eyes, and letting her blue eyes linger there, she let herself return his smile as the transporter beam carried them away.


End file.
